


We Who Are About to Die

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Rome, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 17:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11407044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Astra, a former champion of the Roman gladiator circuit and servant to one of the most powerful women in Rome, falls in love with a young Greek warrior who sold herself into bond to pay her father's debts.  They come together , with the aid (or meddling) of some ancient Roman goddesses.





	We Who Are About to Die

“...and then I shall take a luncheon with Gaius tomorrow in which we shall discuss my son’s purchase of the smaller lanistae he owns in the provinces.”

“Domina…” Astra frowned. “...are you certain it is wise to pursue these purchases so soon after the death of your husband?” Cat’s son was still a boy, and so Cat had to conduct his affairs for him until such time as he could manage them himself. Astra’s watchful eye and prudent advice had been invaluable to Cat since her husband’s death, in matters of finance and especially politics.

Cat’s mouth quirked a little at her body slave’s impudence, but she also loved it, in her way. While mistress and slave they undoubtedly were, Astra knew she would be freed upon Cat’s passing. They had been together since they were both young, and each one would weep if the other were to die first, for they loved one another as family. “All these years together, Astra,” she sighed, “and it still amazes you that I can tie my own sandals.”

Astra smirked. “As you will, Domina.” She gazed out the window, then, and saw the new crop of gladiators training in the yard. One in particular caught her eye; she had been watching this one since they arrived, and her days were none the worse for it. This one was a woman of moderate height and build, not quite so large nor so muscular as Astra, but she cut a fine figure with a sword in hand, and the muscles in her arms and shoulders were cut as if from stone and would look very fine when they were oiled up before a tournament.

Cat cleared her throat. “Gazing at that Greek girl again?”

Astra said nothing for a moment. “Watching the new crop in training, Domina.”

Cat waved a hand, clearly not believing her. “Be off, then. Go and put them through their paces.”

The courtyard was dusty and everything sat in high contrast, bleached by the Roman sun. Astra had been born in Gaul, but Rome had been her home for more years than Astra knew how to count. She had been a child when the Romans took her, and she came to serve Cat, but now she was a woman of maturity, and there was no-one in Rome Cat trusted more. She had absorbed the customs of the Romans, had learned their language, and many others besides.

She approached the part of the courtyard where the gladiators stood in a ring, watching the Greek girl spar with J’onn, the trainer, a Berber warrior Cat had poached from the Egyptian royal guard. Women gladiators were something of a novelty in Rome, a great attraction reserved for the evening shows at the arena, with torches lit and all manner of madness accompanying their showings. Cat insisted that they be nothing less than excellent, and so, she found herself the best trainer that her son’s gold could buy, J’onn, a true son of Mars. He was uninterested in the bare breasts of the women who swung at one another with wooden practice blades, sweating in the sun. He only demanded excellence, and usually got it.

“I am ready for the arena!” the Greek girl was protesting as she engaged him with her wooden sword.

He parried her blow and pushed back. “You are ready when I say you are ready.” And he swung backhand with his sword, striking her shoulder with the pommel and and knocking her into the dry, red dirt.

Astra smiled. J’onn was unsentimental with the trainees. She liked that about him. She was about to call some dry remark to him when she saw the Greek girl rise from the dust and charge him again. “She is not yet defeated!” Astra shouted as she approached, accelerating into a jog and laughing at the girl’s fighting spirit.

She was quick, Astra had to admit, and graceful. Astra wondered what had brought her to Rome. Gladiators could be slaves and prisoners of war, but many were there voluntarily.

More of the smack of wood against wood filled the air as the Greek went after J’onn with new vigor, attempting more than once to wrest the sword from his hand, but no avail. Twice more, he knocked her down and she sprang up again, to J’onn’s amused chagrin.

“We will get our coin’s worth from her, no doubt,” Astra commented.

J’onn grinned savagely. He disarmed her, swept her feet from beneath her, and this time, pinned her to the ground with a knee against her chest.

“If I had my knife…” she began fiercely, but it was no use. She reached for her thigh, where it was clear she was accustomed to carrying a small blade, but there was nothing there. Her eyes flashed a fire that was rare in a woman of any culture, any age. Yes, this Greek was something different.  
  
“But you don’t,” he responded. “And you won’t in the arena, either.”

He waited a moment until she quit struggling, and then rose up, and helped her to her feet.

And then Astra watched those lovely shoulder muscles flex, and watched the Greek’s arm gracefully extend, and she punched J’onn the Berber directly in the face.

He stumbled back, surprised. Astra knew the girl, no matter how special, would be in for the worst of it now, and she made a split second decision to intervene.

“I will deal with this one, J’onn, so you may continue your training.”

He nodded to her, and picked up his sword. Astra stepped up behind the Greek and took her arm, bending it behind her back. She leaned down and said very softly in her ear, “Do not struggle or it will be worse for you.”

J’onn punched the Greek once in the mouth, and her head snapped back, then bobbed forward, and she spat a little blood to the ground. A punch in the mouth made a good show, without doing much real damage. At least, if you did it right.

Astra took her roughly and led her out of the courtyard. “This way, wretch,” she snarled, although in reality, her heart was thudding in her chest. She led her to a darkened cell in the barracks and shoved her to the floor.

The Greek tossed her short, dark hair out of her eyes and stared up at her. There was still blood on her lip. The fire in her gaze was unmistakable. Astra felt her body stir and she decided at that moment that she had to have her.

She crouched down in front of her. “So brave,” she murmured, and she ran a thumb over the split lip.

The Greek jerked her head away from Astra’s hand.

“You need not fear me,” Astra told her softly in Greek. “Had I not removed you, J’onn the Berber would have done far worse than that little punch to the mouth.”

The gladiator’s eyes widened with surprise. “You speak my language?”

“I do. And many others. What are you called?”

“Alexandra.”

Astra sighed with delight. What a fitting name, what a perfect, powerful name for such a creature. “Of course. And how did you come to be here?”

“My father dies owing a debt to Rome. I am here to pay that debt.”

So she had sold herself into bond. Astra nodded. “I understand. You are still accustomed to being free.”

Alexandra’s eyes were fierce, but she said nothing.

“Distinguish yourself, and you will earn freedom again soon enough.” Astra stood, and offered her hand. “You are not like the others. You are not meant to be fodder for bloodsport. You are a champion. I know a champion when I see one.”

Alexandra’s body remained tense, every muscle still coiled, but her look seemed to soften a little. “Is that so?”

Astra nodded. “I will help you. We will train.”

Alexandra looked her over warily, her eyes taking in the cleanliness of Astra’s attire. “You are a house slave. And to someone rather important, I think.”

Astra smiled wryly. Nothing escaped this one’s eye. “Yes. But I have been a champion, too. And if you want that, I will teach you.”

“So then J’onn the Berber is not to be my trainer?”

“No, he is. Officially. But you and I will train privately, in addition.”

Alexandra took Astra’s hand, and Astra pulled her to her feet. She was pleased that Alexandra had agreed to this. Not that she could really say no. Astra could easily ask Cat to order it, and it would be done. But Astra was glad that it would move forward with Alexandra’s cautious consent.

  
****

“ _See how the set of her jaw changes when she is touched by Astra!” exclaims Venus. “I shall enjoy watching them come to love one another!”_

_“Hush,” says Bellona, “they are beautiful warriors, gifted both, and they are destined to battle one another.”_

_Venus sighs. “Will it please you, my darling, to watch them fight?”_

_The goddess of war sighs back at her, her charmed bronze armor clattering as it shifts against itself. “It would please me very much.”_

_Venus bites her lip playfully. “But by it, they shall fall in love?” she suggests, her voice hopeful._

_Bellona nods, “Yes, my love, that is a fair arrangement.”_

  
******

 

Astra had been a champion. Cat had not wanted her to fight, but Astra had wanted nothing more, and so, with little pleasure, her domina had allowed it, paying for the best of arms and training so that her best friend would be returned to her after she satisfied her desire to conquer the arena. Astra was always the fiercest, a natural leader among the gladiators in matches that featured war simulations. It got so that by the time she had been given leave to retire in comfort, she was jokingly nicknamed “General”, which some of the old-timers, gladiators who had retired but stayed on as trainers or weapons masters, still called her.

But now, she was dealing with a different beast. She was not whipping some broken slaves into fighting shape. She was nurturing a warrior into a champion.

She trained Alexandra at night, after long days in which Astra served Cat, and Alex trained with J’onn. Astra taught her how to wield a spear, and how to best handle combat against multiple opponents. She taught her a trick for splintering an opponent’s shield which would not work on the rectangular, curved scutum, but that a strong fighter could use to great effect against a roundshield. They sparred with practice swords, their steel ringing against each other until late into the night. Night after night, they sparred, and then drank. Astra’s training became harder, and Alexandra’s disposition softer.

“You are not without skill.” Astra offered the grudging compliment after a dozenth round with blunted practice steel.

Alexandra shook her head. “And yet you bring me down each time.”

Astra smiled. “Yes, but I am making it more difficult as you improve. Now. Again,” she said, raising her sword.

Alexandra groaned. “But I am tired.” She gestured to the sky with her blade. “It is late.”

So Astra rushed at her. Alex raised her scutum, emblazoned with Cat’s family standard, and blocked Astra’s blows. “That was a dirty trick!” And she jabbed at Astra with her sword. If there was a fight to be had, Alexandra was ready, tired or not.

Astra glanced her blow away and laughed. “You will face worse in the arena!”

They exchanged blows. Astra was not working as hard as she could, but her breath was pleasingly shallow and she could feel Alexandra’s blows against her roundshield, their force reverberating up the length of Astra’s arm and into her muscled shoulder. So strong, she thought. A champion.

Finally, when they had battled to Astra’s satisfaction, they broke. Astra brought her to a table in the courtyard and they shared wine in silence.

“How did you come to fight so well?” Astra asked after a moment.

“My father taught me. And I am nothing if not his daughter.” And even in her exhausted state, Alexandra's chin lifted and her eyes burned with pride.

Astra was silent for a moment. “I do not remember my father.” She felt a strange detachment as she said this. Alexandra was so rooted in herself and what she was. She had sold herself into bond to clear her father’s debt.

They drank a bit more.

Alexandra asked, “How is it that you were a champion and yet you remain here, serving the domina?”

Astra smiled. “It is a complicated story.”

Alexandra snorted. “So you are lovers then.”

Astra laughed out loud. “Nothing of the kind. Rome snatched me young from the battlefields of Gaul and I was sold into the domina’s service. She gave me dignity when I had none, and had a care for my person when no-one did. When we both grew older, she permitted me to fight in the arena and paid for the best trainer she could find to ensure that I was victorious. That is how J’onn the Berber came to be in her service. She seeks my counsel and heeds my advice as often as not. She is the only family I can remember.”

Astra found it hard to read Alexandra’s expression at this, but it looked like profound sadness. “You turned down freedom to stay with her?”

Astra's heart burrowed down low in her chest. “I had nothing to leave for.”

They stared quietly into their cups for a few moments more. Astra saw the moon floating in hers, and so she drank it down and prayed it's light would inhabit her and render her as beautiful to Alexandra's eyes as Alexandra was to hers.

  
********

  
“ _Look how Alexandra grieves for the life that was stolen from Astra,” Venus whispers. “Surely now they can fall in love.”_

_Bellona is busy picking her teeth with a small knife not unlike the one that Alexandra used to keep strapped to her thigh. “Not yet, dearest, please. I am too much enjoying watching them fight. Their combat is as fierce as tigers and as graceful as dance.”_

_Venus pouts and summons an enormous cup of wine. She sips at it for a few long moments. “I shall indulge you a while longer, my love, but then…”_

_“Yes, yes,” Bellona says, dismissively waving her small knife around and nearly knocking Venus’s cup from her hand. “But first let me see them wrestle.”_

  
*****

  
They stood, gripping each other’s upper arms. Astra felt Alexandra’s muscles shift beneath her skin and felt her warm breath on her ear as she asked, “And what does this prove?”

“You must be fully prepared. You may be required to wrestle, without weapons.”

Alexandra was shorter than Astra by perhaps half a hand, but she was wily and she employed many tactics to attempt to throw off Astra’s balance. They grappled against each other for several minutes, pushing back and forth in the cool of the spring evening, struggling for purchase. Astra’s heart sang at how capable she was, how worthy an opponent.

But still, with a note of triumph and her blood stirring, without trickery, she forced her onto her back in the dirt, and there she held her until the count was done. Crickets made their music and horses clopped past outside the wall. The world was reduced beat of her heart and the heave of her chest as she held Alexandra down.

Alexandra struggled beneath her, but to no avail, for Astra had the advantage now. And even now, in defeat, the Greek’s dark eyes were filled with a kind of rage and merriment, as if she loved being this angry, and she growled softly so that Astra could feel her breath again: “You smell like a Roman.”

Astra did not fall for the ploy and continued to hold her pinned. “Keep talking, whelp, and I will keep you pinned here for longer.”

“That is a poor threat,” Alexandra panted then, and Astra felt her writhe beneath her in a way that did not entirely feel as though she was trying to escape.

“Yield,” Astra ordered.

“Never.”

“Then we will be here a little while.”

Now Alexandra’s face was practically alight with amusement. “Again, a poor threat.”

“Yield,” Astra repeated, and this time she inflicted just a bit of pain, gripping her wrists hard enough to leave white marks that would take a few minutes to fade on Alexandra’s bronzed skin.  
  
Alexandra did not seem to entirely mind this either, but nevertheless, after a sharp intake of breath, presumably brought about by pain, she grunted, “Fine.”

Astra released Alexandra’s wrists, and rose up off of her. The young warrior declined Astra’s offer of a hand and scrambled quickly to her feet.

“Sage,” the Greek said, “and olive oil, is it not?”

Astra gazed at her curiously.

“The smell of Romans, at least the clean ones. Sage and olive oil.”

Astra understood. “Yes, and we scrub also with salt.”

“But you are not Roman,” Alexandra reminded her.

Astra said nothing. Alexandra was not wrong, technically. She beckoned with a silent wave of her hand to the table where they took their wine after training. She poured cups and they sat quiet for a long while.

“I do not know what it is to be from Gaul,” Astra said. “My memories are only fragments; an open sky, unlike the crowded sky of Rome; a clear river; a voice, it might have been my mother’s but I cannot even say.”

Alex smiled faintly and nodded. “In some ways I envy you; I remember too clearly what I left behind. But I also remember why I fight, and what I wish to return to.”

Ah, Astra thought, there it was, that light. “Tell me.”

“Barley fields, and wheat, rolling waves of it, for hectares, like an ocean of pale gold,” Alexandra said. “Fig trees, plums, and pomegranates, and the air is thick and sweet with their scent, and their shade is cool, and the wind comes in from the south, and caresses everything with its warmth.”

Astra hung on her words. It sounded blissful.

“I would take a villa there, and work my fields and groves, like old Cincinnatus.” Alexandra was leaning lazily on one elbow, gazing at the stars past Astra’s shoulder.

Astra sipped the wine, and noticed that it was better and sweeter than the wines they had drunk on other nights. She glanced up to the domina’s window and there stood Cat, gazing down at them. Astra chuckled to herself.

“Something amuses you?”

Astra lifted her cup. “The domina must be pleased with your progress. She has given us better wine tonight.”

Alexandra’s eyes found hers, dancing with amusement and love of a challenge, and Astra’s heart leapt. “Let us see if I can earn us something from her personal casks.”

 

***********************

_Venus leans over and plays with a lock of Bellona’s hair. “Now, my love, you have seen them wrestle. Can we not let them fall in love at last?”_

_Bellona is so expansive in her excitement that she waves her arms about, and only because Venus is quicker than she looks does she manage to avoid getting struck in the head. “But she has not yet fought in the arena! Would you not have Alexandra emerge the victorious hero? Would that not be a better moment to let them fall in love?”_

_Venus is growing cross with her beloved. She takes her hand and strokes the back of it. “Perhaps we should go to bed, my dearest. We can think about it after we wake, hm?”_

_“Sleep?” Bellona exclaims. “How can you talk of sleep when Alexandra has not yet faced the other gladiators and struck them down?”_

_Venus sighs. She believes she much preferred it when Bellona stuck to starting wars._

  
**********************

  
Alexandra came rushing to Astra as the sun was setting and took her by the wrists, and her hands were warm and her grip vigorous. “J’onn says I am ready for the arena! I fight in four days!”

Astra’s shuddered. Her warrior, her brave one, she smoldered like embers, but Astra still feared that she would not return. “You are not ready till I say you are ready.”

Alexandra’s face fell.

But Astra pulled a sword from her belt and tossed it to her. She tossed her a scutum that sat against the wall of the courtyard and picked up a roundshield and a second sword, and rushed at her with all her might.

Astra held nothing back. She did not treat this as a training match. She went in intending to defeat her. If Alexandra could not win, then Astra would fight J’onn to keep her from the ring. So she swung her steel as nimbly as she could, and it flashed, and struck Alexandra’s shield again and again. Their weapons rang, they clashed with sword and shield, with fist and foot, and a crowd quickly gathered to watch them battle. Astra knocked Alexandra to one knee and to her surprise, Alexandra struck at her so hard that her roundshield splintered, and Astra stumbled back from the force of the blow. Alexandra had remembered the trick.

And then, on her feet again, Alexandra pressed forward, fearsome and fast, and Astra saw the deadly light in her, and her heart ached. She would not lose her to the ring.

Astra rallied forward again, came in with a backhand stroke, and Alexandra parried and then lunged forward, striking Astra in the chest with her elbow and knocking her back into the dirt. She pounced down on Astra’s chest, one knee pressed to her sternum, and the sword point poised above Astra’s sternum.

“I could put this through your chest,” she panted, triumphant.

Astra had never been so overjoyed at being defeated.

“I could pierce you right in the heart.”

Astra, breathing heavily, could only smile. Alexandra would be fine. She would return from the arena a champion. “You already have.”

Alexandra stood then, took her hand, and helped her to her feet, and then embraced her, as was common after an excellent bout. “It pleases me to know this,” she whispered in Astra’s ear.

Astra embraced her in return, shivering at the feel of Alexandra’s warm breath. “Come to me tonight?” she whispered back.

They pulled back and looked at one another. The spectators applauded them. Astra’s heart was pounding, first from the fight and now, because she had stated her intentions, and her fingertips curled into Alexandra’s shoulder, plainly speaking her longing, and Alexandra was not pulling away.

Alexandra’s shoulders quivered under Astra’s touch. Her eyes reached into Astra and discerned her meaning. “Yes?” Their voices were quiet now, meant only for each other.

“Yes,” Astra murmured. “Yes, yes.”

 

************************

“ _That was a wonderful battle!” Bellona exclaims, chewing heartily on a fig._

_“Indeed,” Venus agreed._

_“But you made them fall in love afterward,” Bellona says crossly. “I thought we agreed it would be after Alexandra emerged victorious from the arena.”_

_“You agreed to that,” Venus replies breezily, “but I consented to no such thing.”_

_Bellona drums her fingers irritably on the pommel of her sword. “I am quite sure you did.”_

_But Venus is clever, and knows Bellona likes that about her. “But my love, it was a wonderful battle precisely because Astra was in love. She poured her heart into it to ensure that Alexandra was ready because she wants her to return victorious.”_

_Bellona sulked a few moments, but then relented, if only a little. “Well, it was a good battle,” she conceded, “but we shall see if Alexandra is too lovesick now to be a formidable force in the arena.”_

_Venus smiled. “We shall see.”_

_“Rotten,” Bellona grumbled._

_“Just so.”_

_“Fortunate that you have beautiful tits and a gorgeous face and are the actual goddess of love.”_

_“Mm-hmm.”_

  
***********

Alexandra came to Astra that night, still armed. Astra stood near the fountain in the quiet part of the courtyard, near the gate that opened onto the path up the hill to Cat’s villa. She was sharpening a sword, listening to the scrape of the whetstone on the steel and relishing its weight in her hand.

Alexandra approached and Astra handed her the sword.

Alexandra looked at her with curiosity. “I thought you intended differently.”

Astra smiled. She stroked Alexandra’s cheek once, unable to refrain from touching her. “I do. This is not meant for sparring now. It is a gift.”

Alexandra looked curiously at her. “Is it?”

“It was my sword when I fought in the arena. The domina had it made for me to help ensure my victories. You will not find a finer blade than this in Rome. It is even blessed by Bellona.”

Alex slipped it into her belt.

Astra slipped the whetstone into the pouch at her waist.

“Thank you,” Alexandra said after a moment, and then she stepped closer. “But I did not come to you tonight for your sword.” Her hand settled on Astra’s shoulder, palm at the round of it and fingers splaying across, brushing the skin, thumb slowly exploring the ridge of her clavicle.

Alexandra was, even this moment of moonlit softness, still a fearsome beauty. Astra contemplated the curvature of her pink mouth that twitched with anticipation. She contemplated the hand on her shoulder, the gentleness of the callused fingers against her skin. She brought her own hand in to touch Alexandra's waist, and left it resting lightly there.

“I have wanted you from the first,” she confessed, her voice low.

And Alexandra smiled, and she burned with the fires of a thousand stars. “I know,” she said, laughing softly. “I saw you watching me.”

Astra’s breath caught in her throat and her cheeks flushed, only a little. Her other hand brushed down the side of Alexandra’s body, just down her ribcage and her waist, and came to rest on her hip. She felt the weight of the sky in Alexandra’s stare, felt the coiled passion in her body and bones. She tilted her head down, and Alexandra tilted her head up, and Astra felt her lips, warm and willing against hers.

She was amazed at how gentle someone so fierce could be.

Her lips parted, and Alexandra’s kiss tasted of wine and salt, and her tongue entered Astra’s mouth softly, not hesitant, but unhurried, as if they had all eternity to slowly unwind their desire for each other.

And they stood in the moonlight and kissed some more, the heat between them building slowly until Astra was cursing and muttering the names of gods because she wanted so badly to bring her to bed, and Alexandra was chuckling and nipping at her mouth and running fingers through Astra’s long, dark hair.

“I want you,” Alexandra said, and all of Astra’s nerves stood on their ends. All of her skin cried out at once for Alexandra’s touch.

“Then come to my bed.”

“After I am victorious,” Alex replied, her rough fingers tracing little paths down Astra’s neck. “And you know I will be.”

“You will,” Astra agreed. And she understood. She wanted Alexandra now, desperately, but having once been a champion, Astra knew. It was better to make love after the battle, rather than before.

“And then,” Alexandra’s voice remained soft as she continued her gentle touching, “I will have you twenty times, and then twenty times again…” And Astra felt ravished by her eyes as she spoke. “...and I will wring every last drop of pleasure from your flesh and bones until you have forgotten your name for how thoroughly I have fucked you.”

Astra’s knees went weak, and she clutched Alexandra’s shoulders, rather too hard, but she didn’t care. She kissed her hotly, drew her closer, and breathed in, feeling joy at the hard, tight feel of her body. “Promises,” she muttered.

“My word is good.”

They spent some long moments more, kissing, grasping at each other’s hair and clothes, until their desire became so unbearable that they had to part ways then, or else end up fucking up against a rough plaster wall in the darkness. And much as Astra wanted her, she did not want their first time to be that.

  
**************

  
Astra was allowed to come to the arena with the fighters. She personally attended the task of oiling Alexandra up, to make her muscles show more sharply, to the delight of the audience. She was focused and unwavering in her task, and intensely thorough, making certain to anoint every visible curve and well and hollow until it gleamed. Astra wished to annoint all of her, most especially those places which did not show, and she whispered of this in Alexandra’s ear, to rouse her passions. She succeeded.

Alexandra was the fiercest woman Rome could recall seeing. The Empress herself watched her with deep interest. But no-one watched with more interest than Astra, who stood behind Cat in her viewing box and watched the woman she desired lay waste to five, ten, twenty men. Her sword was quick, her arm strong, her eyes fierce and wild. Astra did not believe she would even be able to wait for her to wash the dirt and blood off afterwards before tearing off what little she wore.

As she stood in the middle of the ring, surrounded by the vanquished, the disbelieving cheers erupting around her, her eyes found Astra, and she smiled so radiant that Astra felt herself grow weak again. Cat cleared her throat. “I expect you will wish for this evening to yourself,” she observed dryly.

There was no denying it. Astra had fallen hopelessly in love with the young warrior. She desired her as she never desired any woman. “If you have no need of me.”

Cat snorted and rolled her eyes. “I am not blind, you know. I know what a woman in love looks like, even you, Astra. Begone from me. Go and bed your champion.” She waved her hand in a dismissing gesture.

“Thank you, Domina.” Astra flushed, and scurried away.

 

****************************************

  
“ _See how they desire each other, now,” Bellona says, triumphant. “I told you after the arena would be best.”_

_“Hush,” Venus answers, and she is hardly listening to her divine lover as she gazes down at Alexandra and Astra, eager to watch the fruits of her labor unfold._

_“Women desire champions,” Bellona reminds her, murmuring gently into her ear._

_Venus does not take her eyes from the human lovers, but she smiles. “They do.”_

_“Perhaps you would like to remove my armor?” Bellona suggests, and her fingers are tracing Venus’s delicate ear._

_“By and by, my love. First, watch with me. This is to be my finest work.”_

_“As if I had nothing to do with it?”_

_“Hush.”_

  
******************************

  
Astra brought Alexandra first to the bath, to wash the battle from her skin. Gently, took the sword from her belt and unbuckled the breastplate and laid it aside. They kissed, gentle, hot, and long, and then Astra knelt, and unbuckled her greaves and then untied her sandals. She looked up, eager to free of her of what remained; her belt, her pteruges, and loincloth. She beheld the full measure of Alexandra in her nakedness, and it was enough to restore her faith in the divine; she saw the gods on her skin, and in her eyes. She traced with worshipful touches Alexandra's biceps and shoulders, brushed gentle fingers down her abdomen with its muscles like hammered bronze, and then down the powerful pillars of her thighs.

Astra disrobed, then kissed her again, and led her into the bath. Alexandra submerged herself completely for a moment, and then emerged, glistening and wet, and they stood face to face, gazing at each other with the smiles of those who burned with longing but knew it was about to be fulfilled.

By the golden torchlight, Astra took a cloth and wiped the grime and dirt of the arena from Alexandra’s skin, cleaned it from her minor cuts and scratches, wiped away the blood and grit and the evidence of her fight. She drew her close and washed her face, and then kissed it, and then her chest, and down her body. She cleansed the sweat from Alexandra’s breast, relishing how the nipples tightened under her gentle efforts with the cloth. Astra was entranced, filled with something that burned deeper than lust, and soon enough, her every cleansing stroke, whether it was to neck or shoulder or breast or stomach, elicited a soft gasp and labored release of breath.

“Lay your cloth aside and let me feel you,” Alexandra pleaded.

And Astra gave her what she asked, embraced her warrior, held her naked body close, and kissed her deep and slow. Her mouth tasted like clear, sweet rivers, and her skin felt like home. She pressed Alexandra’s back against the side of the bath and held her there. “Will you have me?” Astra whispered.

“Yes,” Alexandra whispered back.

And Alexandra’s hips began to move, to press against her, began to seek pleasure from the solid warmth of Astra’s body, and Astra felt herself respond in kind. She looked at her champion, and swore she had been sent by the gods, for the way she looked, touched by the gold of the torches, dampened hair sticking to her face, made Astra feel that she had never seen anything so beautiful. They pushed against each other, the rhythm of their movement sending ripples through the water and making it slap softly against the sides of the bath. Alexandra's skin was soft, and her muscles hard, and the pleasure Astra took from it was sweeter than honey. Alexandra’s hands circled Astra's waist and pressed against the small of her back, drawing them tighter to each other. Steam rose from the water, and from their skin, and their first climax came softly, almost accidentally, in gentle shivers and sweet gasps, from their deep kisses and the movement of their bodies against each other.

They laughed quietly against each others’ mouths. “You were meant to wait a little,” Astra scolded mirthfully.

“So were you,” Alexandra replied, and she slipped a hand in between them, below the water, and slid a finger into Astra. Astra’s knees gave and she braced herself against the side of the bath. “But I see why you could not.”

After a moment to rally her strength, Astra’s fingers found their way down Alexandra's body and pushed inside her, and they moved together, fingers pressed into each other’s soft, warm sex; they had been ready for each other for days. They went at one another harder now, and with purpose, claiming each other with fingers and with little bites to each others’ neck and shoulders. Alexandra’s head dropped back in a moment of abandon and Astra scraped her teeth down the perfect slope of her exposed throat.  
  
And when they climaxed again, together, Astra’s heart thudded in her chest and she stared at the hammering pulse in Alexandra's neck, and their eyes never broke from one another. They drank up the bliss in each other’s faces, their lusts entwined in sympathy.

Astra lifted her from the water and sat her on the edge of the bath. She took a moment to kiss her chest, which was now at eye level, and to take each of her small, perfect breasts into her mouth and suck on the stiff, rosy nipples till they were sharp as diamonds against her tongue. Alexandra arched into her mouth and her hands gripped at Astra's head and cradled it to her. Astra's heart thrilled at her response.

Astra placed a hand in the center of Alexandra’s chest and gently pushed her backwards. Alexandra complied, and lay on her back on the stone floor with her feet still dangling in the hot bath, hands clasped behind her head.

Astra leaned over the edge of the bath, pushed Alexandra’s legs apart, and placed a light, teasing kiss between her legs. Alexandra gasped, and Astra took great joy in the sound of it.

“Yield, champion,” she whispered.

“You yield,” Alexandra purred back.

Astra kissed again, letting the tip of her tongue dip in and taste her. “Mm, I think not.”

Alexandra moaned a little, then laughed. “I think you wish to taste me as badly as I wish for you to do it. I think you cannot restrain yourself.”

Astra dipped her head forward and tormented her sex for several long moments, lightly teasing and making Alexandra buck her hips to chase the touch of Astra’s mouth. Astra pulled back and looked at her, waiting to see if she had won. “Do you yield, champion?”

“Yes! Just give me more,” Alexandra moaned.

Astra gave her more, lapping up all her bittersweetness with the flat of her tongue. Astra’s tongue stroked warm and rough against her sex. Alexandra’s fingers tangled themselves in Astra’s hair and she sighed and moaned and pushed herself against Astra’s mouth.

Alexandra fought like no other woman. She fucked like no other woman. She tasted like no other woman. She trembled in orgasm like no other woman. And Astra would have her a hundred thousand times more if she could.

  
*************************

  
They moved to Astra’s bed after this, and made love several times more, Alexandra making good on her promises to make a wreck of Astra again and again. They lay in each others’ arms afterward, Astra on her back and Alexandra curled at her side, a leg thrown over her and her head in the curve of Astra’s neck.

“When I have been enough of a champion,” she murmured against Astra’s skin, “I get my freedom?”

“Yes, that is what happens.”

“And money?”

“Yes, usually some gold and a bit of land.”

A long quiet. Then: “Enough gold to buy your freedom?”

Astra’s heart stopped in her chest. “What?”

“Would it be enough to buy your freedom? If I earn my freedom, and all the rewards that this entails, would I have enough money to buy your freedom too?”

Astra hesitated. “Would you wish to do that?”

Alexandra kissed her chest. “If you would come with me. You said you did not leave when you had the chance because you had nothing to leave for. Would you leave with me?”

Astra’s voice caught in her throat. “I… Alexandra…”

“Say yes,” Alexandra urged. “Say that when I am free and can buy your freedom, that you will leave with me. That you will go back to Ardassa with me, and care for my fields with me, and tend my fig trees with me, and eat and live and sleep and make love with me each day. Say you will.” She pushed up onto one elbow and gazed seriously at Astra.

Astra wanted to weep. “I have never been loved in such a way.”

“Then say you will come with me.”

Astra sighed, and tears poured from her eyes, and she said yes, and yes, and yes, and once again, they made love.

And then they slept. And then the sun rose.

 

********************************************

  
_Venus lies wrapped in Bellona’s powerful arms. “I told you you would be less cranky after we napped.”_

_“I am less cranky because we finally made love,” Bellona says a little archly._

_“I told you it would be worth waiting to watch them.” Venus is not having any of Bellona’s nonsense. “They were beautiful together.”_

_Bellona cannot argue the point. “I hate it,” she says after a bit, “but I suppose I must get back to the wars I have been neglecting.”_

_Venus smiles and kisses her. “Yes, my love.”_

_But every once in awhile, Bellona meddles in Venus’s work, and they bring together a pair of warriors whose union is blessed by them both. And they are all as fearsome and beautiful and desperately in love as Astra and Alexandra._


End file.
